


you'll live longer

by Biscay



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, stubborn dickheads being stubborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13868808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biscay/pseuds/Biscay
Summary: Chloe loves Nadine so much she'd do anything for her.Nadine thinks that's exactly the problem.





	1. Chapter 1

They've been in Greece for three weeks, and are on their way to establishing something resembling a routine. Chloe’s never had a routine in her life, but mornings where she does her yoga, Nadine completes her military exercises, and they share a cafetiere of coffee after are definitely bringing her round to the idea. They’re on the balcony of their apartment, coffee poured. The morning sun is lazily ascending, the warmth invigorating Chloe as much as the caffeine in her drink, and she wishes it was summer so there was an excuse to head down to Thessaloniki, lounge around on the beach, and make jokes about Nadine rubbing her all over with sunscreen.

Chloe watches Nadine watch a pair of bee-eaters flit around the jasmine on the outer wall of their hotel.

“We should think about moving on,” Nadine murmurs.

“Bored of me already?”

“Ja,” Nadine says, deadpan. Chloe laughs, and it scares the bee-eaters away. “I don’t like staying in one place for too long. Especially after a job like this.”

"Hey, the client's happy, the racket leader's dead. You've got to-"

"Relax, you've said."

"Just looking out for you and your blood pressure."

"And here I thought I had a serious business partner," Nadine says, finishing her coffee and catching Chloe's eye over the lip of her cup, "if you wanted to just retire on the Mediterranean, you should have said."

Chloe cackles with laughter and she and Nadine hold eye contact for slightly too long as they clear up the table from breakfast, then head back inside. It would be so easy to cross the unspoken lines they’ve drawn; a kiss, a touch is all it would take. They’ve established an equilibrium but it feels more like a tightrope as Chloe’s comments get flirtier, stray touches get more frequent. 

But Chloe’s all about the thrill of the chase; she’s dedicated her life to it. The reward is important, but picking locks and solving puzzles is not only why she’s stuck with it, but why she’s one of the best. Taking her time, looking after number one, and knowing when to quit are values she lives by, but she’s taking each day at a time, enjoying Nadine’s company, and the dynamic that’s developed between them. 

Still, she spends a good few hours each day tapping around on her laptop searching for potential jobs. They’ve got the time and money now to be choosy, and Chloe’s excited to make their next adventure a good one. It’s another part of the routine she’s established for herself, and having Nadine as her partner opens a ton of doors; her reputation is formidable, and her dependency highly prized. Chloe has contacts, and knows the areas of the internet where their services fetch the best prices. She’s happy to play bidders against each other, ensuring the pay is absolutely right.

“Surely there’s a more direct approach,” says Nadine from the other end of the sofa. She’s reading an article, apparently unperturbed by Chloe’s stream of consciousness. 

Chloe’s had partners before; for jobs and sex and relationships. But she’s never found a single person before who can stand to be in the same room as her when she’s trawling around on the internet.

She just can’t help keeping a running commentary of what she’s doing, of things she’s found, and her thoughts on posts other people have made. Nadine, unbelievably, pokes away silently at her tablet, only responding to Chloe’s non-rhetorical questions.

“Gotta make sure it’s worth it.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

“Looking for something outdoorsy. Getting tired of galleries and museums.”

Nadine shrugs. “Fine by me. I’d rather be scaling cliffs than have to dress up and make nice at some bastard’s fancy function.”

“I dunno, I kinda like you dressed up.”

“You like seeing me uncomfortable.”

Chloe grins and doesn’t trust herself to look up from her laptop. “No reason I can’t enjoy both.”

* * *

Prior to their first job after India, their first job as official partners, they had a sit-down and, in typical Nadine-style, went over some ground rules. 

“I appreciate the time and energy you put into looking for treasure hunts,” Nadine said, “and I get that it’s part of your control thing. Fine. But I want a veto.”

“Veto?”

“If a job is too risky, or not worth it, or plain stupid, I want to be able to say no, and let that be the end of it. We go all-in together or not at all.”

“I’ve said before,” Chloe said glibly, “if you’re looking for safety and security, you’re in the wrong line of work, honey.”

“It’s not about safety,” Nadine had said, her serious expression making Chloe’s grin fade, “It’s about trust.”

Chloe Frazer, collector of antiques and manipulator extraordinaire, would have said anything to keep Nadine on her side. If you’re onto a good thing, you don’t throw it away; basic stuff. 

In India, she told Sam that she trusted Nadine. Only a few days after knowing her, and that was before Nadine joined her suicide mission on a bomb-carrying runaway train. Nadine, unlike Chloe, has never done anything to break her trust, and in addition to having a partner whose company she more-than-enjoys, the mutual faith they have in each other is something Chloe’s slowly getting used to. 

“Power of veto it is,” Chloe said, and surprised herself that she meant it.

* * *

“Okay, I think I’ve got something.”

She should probably take a break - go see her mum in Sydney, spend some of her newly-acquired money on a break where there’s 0% risk she’ll be shot at - but as soon as one job's finished she's looking for the next. 

She feels like an addict. 

Maybe she's developed a taste for something else. She’s spent the morning preparing her pitch, and as she enters the living room and sees Nadine on the sofa, totally unguarded and relaxed around her, Chloe feels a rush of affection. 

“How do you feel,” she says with a flourish, “about Japan?”

“Good,” Nadine nods, putting her book to one side to give Chloe her full attention, “never been, but always wanted to.” 

“Excellent. Hold onto your climbing rope, because I got an extremely reliable tip-off about some lost treasure just outside Kyoto. Think it’s got our names on it.”

Nadine leans forward. “What’s the job?”

“That’s the best part - we’re continuing our roll of good deeds and what we’re doing doesn’t even count at stealing.”

“Chloe, our last two jobs have literally been robbing rich people.”

“Hey, the tusk was so good I’m using it as moral currency for at least twelve months.”

“Why doesn’t this one count as stealing, then?”

“Because,” says Chloe, drawing out the vowels, “the treasure is lost. Which means-”

“Don’t say ‘finder’s keepers’, you’re a professional-”

“-finders keepers.”

“Perfect.”

“We’re not keeping it, anyway. My contact has a buyer lined up, and how’s this for morals: it’s the Korean family the treasures belonged to in the 1920’s.”

“Frazer, I’m a thief. Since I threw my lot in with you, that’s my job, and before that I was a mercenary. You don’t have to keep justifying everything.”

“Yeah, but I’m convinced it’s my dashing good deeds that made you throw your lot in with me, so this is me trying to keep you sweet. Also, the pay for this is incredible.” 

Nadine smirks and Chloe is delighted that she seems to be very sweet indeed. “Sounds good. When do we leave?”

* * *

A lifetime of travelling between Australia and various points in the Northern Hemisphere means Chloe’s learned to cope well with jetlag. Nadine seems equally unaffected which Chloe assumes, like so much with Nadine, is sheer force of will. Still, Chloe’s not keen to start a mission climbing around on mountains on three hours’ sleep. Getting to spend time relaxing and exploring with Nadine is a bonus.

They check into the small, traditionally-built inn Chloe found online - cash only, no paper trail. The elderly proprietor at the desk gives them a strange look as they pick up their room key. Chloe wants to demand exactly what her problem is, but they’ve been in the country less than two hours and she doesn’t want to cause trouble. 

“I can ask if she’s got a second room if it bothers you,” Nadine whispers as they’re shown down the corridor.

“It’s fine,” Chloe assures her, but the irritation settles in her stomach.

They could get separate rooms. After they returned from the Western Ghats their sharing was justified because they were broke and, honestly, just getting away from Sam was peaceful and private enough. After the Ministry of Culture’s surprisingly generous gift, plus a few easy jobs after, the money excuse didn’t really hold water, but by then it was a thing. Their thing. It could be explained as extra security, or more convenient for pooling mission ideas late into the evening, but Chloe was woman enough to admit that she just liked having Nadine close. 

Well, she would have admitted it, if asked. 

Probably.

* * *

“What do you think?”

The famous cherry blossom is just starting to bloom, and pink-tinged trees line the streets of the quiet residential district of Kyoto where they’re staying. Tourism season is just beginning; good cover for two obvious foreigners.

Nadine would never say so, but Chloe can tell how happy she is to finally stretch her legs after hours of cramped travelling. “I’ll admit it, this is pretty great. You been here before?”

“I’ve only ever been to Tokyo before, but did you know this was the old capital?”

“I think I read that somewhere.”

“Kyoto literally means ‘capital metropolis’, but power shifts in the 1800’s meant Emperor Meiji moved the political capital to Edo - now Tokyo.”

Nadine catches Chloe’s eye as she walks next to her. “Where did you learn all of this?”

Chloe fiddles with the Ganesh in her pocket. “I stand by ancient maps and scrolls as the ultimate source of information for stuff like this, but I took a leaf out of your book and looked it up on Wikipedia.”

“We call that mission prep, Frazer. Totally sensible.”

“I thought it was nice; you, me, ancient capitals switching around - just like old times, right?”

“They’re not really old times if they happened three months ago,” Nadine teases, “but, ja, it is nice.”

“Stay right there,” Chloe says suddenly, pulling out her phone.

Nadine rolls her eyes in token protest as Chloe finds the best framing. She angles her phone to capture Nadine, the quiet street behind them where traditional Japanese streetlights have gradually lit up, and a towering pagoda in the distance. The yellow-pink sunset makes Nadine’s skin glow, and as she takes the picture, Chloe knows it’s going to be one of her favourites.

Her phone’s memory is filling up with pictures of Nadine. She hadn’t noticed until earlier, 7 hours into their flight. Bored of the in-flight movie selection and with Nadine dozing beside her, she scrolled through her phone and realised there were more pictures with her partner than without. As she swiped between photos, she lingered on the ones featuring her. It wasn’t that she’s more breathtaking than the hidden cities of India, the ruins of Ephesus, or the mountains and lakes of Locarno, but their beauty was enhanced by the fact that they experienced them together. Totally crushed moments and all.

She'd put her phone away and let Nadine’s quiet, steady breaths, just audible over the roar of the engine, soothe her to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

They find a cheap and easy noodle bar two districts over. Nadine grabs a table with two stools at the back of the bar, and Chloe uses rusty Japanese to order two bowls of udon.

“Better than MREs,” Chloe says, bringing the bowls over. 

“As long as it’s better than that plane food.”

“Agreed,” says Chloe, snapping apart her chopsticks and digging in. From the corner of her eye, she catches a look of uncertainty flash across her partner’s face, and it’s so foreign and unexpected she pauses mid-mouthful.

Nadine awkwardly uses the sticks to spear rather than grasp at her noodles, then notices Chloe’s staring. “Don’t - don’t say anything.”

Chloe watches with delight as hands she’s seen snap a man’s neck fumble with cutlery. “I just can’t believe - how many countries have you been to, again?”

“Don’t you dare start, Frazer. I’ve spent years in Asia. Just not the…. chopstick-using parts.”

Chloe grins. “Guess we’ll have to take you to China sometime, china.” 

She expects a glare for that one - or to be literally stabbed with a chopstick, it was terrible enough to deserve it - but Nadine laughs, and it’s so beautiful and rare that Chloe has to bite her lip.

“You hold them like this,” Chloe says once recovered, demonstrating with her own, tapping the sticks together, “tips together, see?”

“I’m holding them fine, I’m just left-handed.”

Chloe reaches across the table and readjusts the chopsticks in Nadine’s hand. It’s light teasing, but Nadine’s hands are beautiful and her fingers are strong. Nadine gives her a look suggesting she has some idea of the dirty thoughts bouncing around in Chloe’s head, and given it’s definitely neither the time or place, Chloe backs off. 

Nadine gives her a long look, then returns to her noodles. “Was that payback for Switzerland?”

“Oh no, love. Payback for Switzerland is going to be much worse.”

* * *

After India, and dangerously low on funds, Chloe had managed to sniff out an easy art theft job in Locarno. Two pieces by Albert Gleizes from a private collection, originally hidden in Switzerland during WWII by Nazis. It was an evening’s work, but Chloe had deliberately booked their stay to allow a week’s R&R&R (the extra R for reconnaissance) prior to the job.

What she didn’t expect was a compulsory four hours every morning down at Switzerland’s second-biggest gun range.

“We can’t really afford this,” Chloe had said after session three, checking their dwindling francs with eyes tired from practice.

“We can,” Nadine assured her, “I can. This is an investment. We’re bringing your marksmanship up from ‘not bad’ to somewhere near my level.”

“Cocky,” Chloe had said, feeling baited and taking it anyway. “Them’s fightin’ words. Tomorrow, you come along. Outdoors, rifle, 1000 yards, silhouette shooting.”

It was when Nadine smirked so widely that she could see every white tooth that Chloe knew she’d been gotten good. 

“You’re on, Frazer.”

-

“Well,” Chloe had said afterwards, in an attempt to recoup some pride, “different skills are what makes us an effective partnership.”

Nadine raised an eyebrow. 

After absolutely demolishing Chloe at the shooting range, Nadine had taken Chloe out for drinks. They hadn't bet cash - victory for Nadine was obviously worth more than money, especially considering Chloe had the equivalent to about a hundred dollars to her name - and buying the drinks was playful salt in Chloe's wounds. 

“For example, as I recall, only one of us knows how to pick locks, and I think you’ll agree that talent is just as handy as blowing things up.”

“Ja,” Nadine conceded, swilling her whisky around its glass, “it’s a good skill for a thief to have.”

“Oh, it’s good for more than just thieving. Taught myself in year 9, to impress Megan Tyler.”

“Did it work?”

“Sure did. And on several women since - turns out they love a girl with dextrous fingers.”

Nadine had nearly choked on her drink, and Chloe felt like she scored at least one victory today.

* * *

A box arrives at the front desk of the inn for Chloe the next morning. The proprietor sniffs suspiciously as she hands it over, and Chloe holds it close until they’ve returned to their room.

“I was worried they wouldn’t arrive.”

“The guns?”

“Yep," Chloe says, carefully removing and holstering a pair of 9mm pistols, handing boxes of ammo over to Nadine for storage. "Not easy to get in Japan, but Sully’s contact came through for me.”

“Good. I’m not going in cold.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, love.”

By the time they're ready to leave, Chloe’s itching with excitement. Every job with Nadine has been a great experience, but after the last few easy, barely-old-enough-to-qualify-as-antique collections, she’s desperate to stretch all her muscles.

Nadine seems to be in good spirits too, completing her morning exercise routine - god, if that’s not a reason to share a room nothing is - minutes earlier than usual. The sun’s barely up as they leave their room, new pistols loaded and holstered away, climbing gear packed into bags. Chloe’s even been persuaded into khaki and beige.

“Just so you know,” Chloe declares, “I’m taking all the photos on this expedition. I can’t let anyone see me in this, my reputation would be ruined.”

Nadine looks her up and down. “The entire point of wearing those colours is that nobody sees you.”

“Well,” Chloe says, making a face of distaste at her mud-green shirt, “good.”

* * *

The bus rattles against the uneven road as it winds its way steadily up the mountain. It’s the first trip of the morning and other than a few locals at the front, they’re the only passengers. Chloe and Nadine sit right at the back and, confident they won’t be overheard, Chloe goes over the plan.

“We’re looking for an old shrine that was lost in an earthquake in the 60’s. It’s been discovered, so there’s a recovery planned, but we’re getting in there first.”

Nadine nods. “I like that plan.”

“These are the treasures we’re after,” Chloe says, unfolding a well-worn, hand-illustrated piece of paper from her pocket.

“I was wondering when you were going to break out the ancient maps and illustrations.”

“Hey, I’ve got a totally modern map. And these treasures are hundreds of years old, and you know I love a good old diagram.”

“You do.”

“After all, what’s a job without romance and intrigue?”

“Historically, safer.”

Chloe nudges her with her shoulder. “Oh, come on, you love it too.” 

“Ja.” Nadine concedes. “God help me, I do.”

Chloe’s beyond happy at the level of flirting she can get away with now. Teasing Nadine has been an enjoyable pastime since day one, but it’s made infinitely better by Nadine’s growing willingness to return it. 

It’s probably for the best that they’re on a rickety old bus, effectively chaperoned by a crew of elderly Japanese people. She can’t do anything ill-advised like push Nadine into the seats and kiss her senseless, no matter how much she wants to. They’ve got a job to do, after all. 

Plus, there’s always the inn later.

“Anyway - the treasures specifically,” Chloe collects herself and points to each in turn on her illustration, “are a pair of ruby earrings, a jade necklace, and a collection of gold seals.”

“Seals?”

“The kind you stamp wax with.”

“Obviously.”

“Although if you’ve got any good facts about the marine mammals, you should definitely share.”

“Maybe later.”

“Right. We’re bringing the stuff back and making the drop in Kyoto so we don’t have to deal with customs. After we get paid of course.”

Nadine nods. “Sounds simple enough.”

“Exactly," Chloe says, folding her diagram back up, "this will be child’s play.”

* * *

“There’s a lot of shrines on the roadside.” Nadine observes as they hike away from the tourist trails. It’s breathtakingly beautiful; the forest towers above them, broad-leaved evergreens mixed with Japanese cedar. The morning mist clings to the tops of the trees, shrouding the mountain’s summit.

“Those are _hokora_ \- miniature shrines. They’re usually dedicated to gods who help protect travellers, so it’s not surprising to see so many heading up to the mountains."

Nadine looks impressed. “Wikipedia again?”

“You know, I even did that donation thing last time they asked.”

“I’m proud of you, Chloe.”

A blush threatens the tips of Chloe's ears. "Larger shrines are used for storing sacred items - but ours has looted treasure. The one we’re looking for is bigger than this, but smaller than the shrines back in Kyoto. And, you know, partially destroyed and buried.”

The hiking turns into climbing pretty quickly once they follow the map away from the road. They make their way up along the side of a valley made of two sheer-faced cliffs, a savage split in the landscape from the earthquake decades before. The drop is at least twenty metres, jutting down to a river swollen with spring-melted snow from higher up the mountain. Chloe takes point, stopping every so often to consult the map. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Chloe yells as the portion of cliff she’s been edging along crumbles away. She hears Nadine shout her name, and immediately plunges her climbing axe into the cliff face. She’s left dangling, with no hand- or footholes for purchase. 

“Come here,” Nadine says urgently, reaching over the cliff edge to extend a hand, “Jesus, Chloe. You scared me.”

Chloe takes it without hesitation and feels a rush of warmth as strong muscles help her to safety. She sits on the ground for a moment, appreciating its solidity. “Thanks china. You’re too good to me.”

Nadine’s features are soft. “Hey, I’m not gonna let you fall.” 

There’s flirtatious banter, and then there’s the _too late_ that Chloe bites her tongue to keep quiet. 

She’s been keeping busy, with research and consecutive jobs to distract herself from overthinking her new partnership. She’s gotten attached, obviously, but that feels like a colossal understatement. In her time as an antique collector she’s joked about mixing business with pleasure every time it’s happened - which is to say a lot - but the pleasure has never been the joy of her partner’s company before. It’s not a problem, per se, but falling in love is not how Chloe Frazer operates. 

Nadine’s face is expectant, waiting for a witty rejoinder, possibly a reminder of the time Nadine actively pushed her off a ledge, but all Chloe can manage is a “cheers love.”

“Maybe I should go first-” Nadine suggests, but Chloe cuts her off. 

“Nope. I’m taking point on this one.”

“You take point on _every_ one.”

Chloe looks over her shoulder and winks. “Didn’t I tell you it’s a control thing? It’s not all bad - this way you get to look at this ass.”

Nadine rolls her eyes. “So many perks to this job.”

* * *

“Hey - Nadine.”

“Ja?”

“Map says the site should be around here.”

They draw to a stop to look around. There’s no clear path, just endless trees jutting up from the scarred ground.

“The trees over there are different,” Nadine observes, pointing, “pines.”

“Bingo. I think this is what we’re looking for,” says Chloe, “it's custom to plant pine trees in the precincts of shrines and temples.”

Chloe squints through her binoculars as they move closer to the site. The remains of the temple are visible through the tightly-packed trees, a broken mess of wood and stone. 

“It looks… sad.”

Nadine pulls back from her own binoculars to look at Chloe, “sentimental, coming from you.”

“Just don’t get to see much stuff that’s been destroyed by Mother Nature. Usually things are getting blown up or set on fire or shot through by people.”

“Including us.” 

Chloe laughs, “Including us. Guess it’s a good reminder that nothing lasts forever, even if we’re not pulling it apart with a 4x4.”

Nadine doesn’t reply because, at the same time as Chloe, she spots first one figure, then several more, milling around the site.

“Who are they?” Nadine whispers, looking back through her binoculars. 

“Not sure. They’re not part of the arrangement, that’s for sure. Need to get a closer look.”

They draw closer, expecting anyone from archaeology students to the yakuza, but as they get near enough to see faces, Chloe sees that the half-dozen people standing about don’t look Japanese.

“They look… almost military,” she observes.

“Mercenaries.”

“Looks like.”

Nadine frowns. “Dangerous.” 

“You’re right,” Chloe agrees, pulling away from her binoculars with a smirk, “what a treat.”

“There weren’t meant to be people here yet. Especially not armed militia.”

“What’s a group of thugs for hire against us? It’ll be even more like old times.”

“Eish. I’m glad you got us these guns.”

“There’s no point in waiting,” Chloe says, figuring Nadine will prefer a direct approach, “we just need to be in and out as quickly as possible.”

“Agreed.”

“Okay, just follow my lead.”

The bare-bones plan is partly from Chloe’s natural habit to wing it, but mostly her knowledge that, whatever happens, Nadine has her back. The easy rhythm they developed in India, a synchronisation that could take years to cultivate with other partners, has made successive jobs not just easier, but much more fun. 

Still, Chloe’s not totally reckless. She waits for a change of guards, signals to Nadine to make a distraction - she throws a rock in a perfect arc to hit the other side of the shrine - and moves in.

She nearly laughs when, after a quick survey of the site, she notices the military lockbox next to the ruin. The single guard is easily and silently knocked out, and Chloe grabs her tools and gets to work.

Practiced hands twist and tap her picks at the mechanism, and after a few focused seconds the lock clicks, and the lid springs open. The familiar rush of achievement is short-lived, as a moment later she feels as much as hears bullets whizz over her head - from a mercenary who’s spotted her, and from Nadine, covered behind one of the shrine’s pine trees, who’s just taken him out. 

“Stop them!” shouts a voice from behind her, and Chloe grabs the contents of the box, shoves them into her pack, and sprints back to Nadine, staying close on her heels. 

Seasoned adventurer though she is, the gunshots from behind, ricocheting off nearby trees, set Chloe’s pulse racing. She fires back, the pistol in her hands loud and hot. She takes out - or at least incapacitates - a few men, but she and Nadine are being pressed back towards the cliff edge. 

“Shit.”

“Frazer, _move_.” Nadine hisses, giving rounds of cover fire.

Her heart stops when she sees a telltale red dot appear on the grey-blue of Nadine’s shirt, aiming at her chest and moving upwards. They hadn’t seen or expected snipers, the long-range weapon more impractical for the terrain than Chloe’s usual clothes.

“Nadine! Sniper!” she shouts, but there’s not enough time. Nadine turns on the cliff edge to return fire, but the sniper dot is still on her, so Chloe lunges.

There’s a noise and a sting like a whip-crack. Chloe drops like a stone into the river below and everything goes black.

* * *

She feels a blurry sense of deja vu when she comes to, Nadine’s face anxiously watching her, her head cradled in her lap. They’re both soaking wet, and the events that led to her fall slowly filter back into her memory. 

“Chloe!”

Chloe coughs, sitting up and wiping sodden strands of hair from her face. She feels like she’s been put through a mincer; the cold from the river is biting, and while every part of her hurts, her side feels like it’s on fire. “Three times,” she manages.

“What?” 

“That’s the third time we’ve ended up crashing into the water like that. Twice in India, and now,” she chuckles, which is a mistake because the slight movement feels like burning, “what did I tell you about things coming in threes?”

Nadine’s face is impassive, and she’s not laughing, so Chloe bites back her follow-on innuendo. “You okay there china?”

Nadine’s hands are suddenly on her, and through the pain of her injuries, Chloe feels a flush of excitement. Nadine unzips Chloe’s jacket with a determination that makes Chloe bite her lip, to reveal deep red staining her khaki shirt.

“You’ve been hit.”

“Right.” Chloe says, looking down and feeling dizzy, “so I have.”

“Hold your arms up.”

Nadine’s more serious than Chloe’s ever seen her, though her energy is almost angry. It reminds Chloe of when they first met, Nadine prickly at the danger and being made to wait, snapping at her when she finally arrived, _I thought you were a professional_.

She doesn’t say anything as she expertly checks Chloe’s injury. Chloe feels awkward, something she hasn’t felt with Nadine since lying about Sam. She sits on the ground, arms up at shoulder level, beginning to shiver as the cold from the river sinks into her.

Nadine digs through her pack for the first-aid kit she keeps meticulously supplied, tossing their newfound treasures aside to grab it. It takes three pads of gauze to wipe away most of the blood, then Nadine holds Chloe still, strong hands on her ribs, thumbs just below her bra, to inspect the wound above her left hip. 

Despite the pain, Chloe tries to bend down to see the damage, but Nadine holds her firm. “Don’t move.”

Nadine grabs the bottle of liquid antiseptic and Chloe braces herself for what’s coming. The smell is foul, and she hisses as pain burns through her. The gash - it’s a long graze, from what Chloe can see, rather than a distinct entry-and-exit wound - is too big for one dressing, so Nadine lines up a couple, then wraps a bandage several times around Chloe’s midsection. They sit in silence, Nadine anxiously watching the dressings to see if blood seeps through. 

After about a minute, bandages still holding up, Nadine finally relaxes. 

“Jesus, Frazer.”

“Are you alright?” Chloe manages.

“Fine.” Nadine says, then starts rifling through her pack again. 

Nadine pulls the sopping, appropriately-camouflaged shirt from Chloe’s body, and redresses her into spare clothes folded military-style at the bottom of her waterproof pack. Next, she produces a microfibre towel and rubs Chloe’s hair, removing the worst of the damp. Despite numerous fantasies centered around Nadine pulling her clothes off and running hands through her hair, the pain, exhaustion, and stony look on Nadine’s face remove any eroticism from the moment. 

“Think we’ll be okay?” Chloe asks. 

“Ja.” Nadine says firmly. It’s just one syllable but hearing Nadine say it with such certainty brings Chloe’s blood pressure down, allows her to begin to relax. “We’ll stay here tonight, get the bus back down tomorrow. It’s not far, but you can’t walk it like this.” 

Chloe watches as Nadine expertly builds a fire - they’re far enough away from the ruin site to be safe, and they both need the warmth - and wraps their emergency blanket around Chloe’s shoulders.

“I looked stuff up because I wanted to impress you, you know.”

“What?”

Chloe looks away from the fire at Nadine. They’re sitting next to each other but not touching, which Chloe doesn’t feel is optimal, for anything including staying warm. “When we were in India I liked telling you all the stories my dad told me. And I love hearing all your animal facts. You’re like... a gorgeous David Attenborough.”

Nadine folds her arms. Shrugs in a way that she probably thinks is nonchalant. “I’ll take that compliment.”

“I wanted to take you to Nagano after this. If we had time. See the hot springs, and those monkeys, you know the ones-”

“Macaques.”

Chloe nods. “Anyway, researching a bit of local history is smart, but, full disclosure, I love our knowledge-sharing.”

A moment passes. Nadine watches Chloe, who digs her nails into her palms at the thought that she might have pushed too far, shared too much, but then Nadine takes Chloe’s hand and gently threads their fingers together. “Me too.”

The pain of her injury hasn't begun to subside, and she's still freezing cold, but at Nadine's touch Chloe immediately feels a little better.

“You know... seals can hold their breath for up to two hours.” Nadine volunteers. 

“Is that a jab at my almost-drowning?” 

With her free hand, Nadine shifts the blanket more firmly around Chloe’s form, tucking it around her shoulders. “Their fur and blubber insulates them against sub-zero temperatures, allowing them to live in the Arctic.”

“I’m sorry I’m not more blubbery.”

“Eh, I like you as you are.”

“All muscle.” Chloe attempts a joke, but it just reminds them both of the time Chloe defied all expectations and boarded a death-bound runaway train, and Nadine, who could absolutely not live with that, came following after.

“You scared me,” Nadine confesses.

“I know.” She wants to apologise, but she’s not sorry at all, and would do it again in a heartbeat.

What she does instead is lean across and close the gap between them - the movement is painful, but worth it - and press her lips against Nadine’s.

Over the past few months, Chloe’s thought about this a lot. She’s got a good idea of what might come after, but their current predicament and her injury probably mean she can’t act out every fantasy right away. Still, the kissing is amazing, and if it’s all they can do for now, she’s happy. 

Chloe’s eyelids flutter open to look at Nadine’s face, and her expression is completely unreadable.

She draws back so they're a breath apart. “Nadine-” she says, a half-whisper. 

Nadine pulls away. “We can’t do this.”


	3. Chapter 3

It’s the last thing Chloe expects to hear, and her jaw drops in a way that under any other circumstances would be comical. “What?”

“Us.” Nadine says stiffly, sitting up straight and putting more space between them. “This.” 

Chloe's made jokes about ruined moments before, but this is another level.

“Why?”

She sounds petulant, but Chloe remembers in vivid detail being eight years old. Her mother explaining why they’re going to move halfway across the world to Australia, leaving her beloved father behind. Little-Chloe stamps her foot, “I don’t _want_ to go!”. She pouts and cries and kicks but it makes no difference and later she reflects that it’s where her need for control probably comes from. 

Except Chloe’s not in control now, hasn’t been for quite some time. She’s let her grip slip and slip and she suddenly feels pressurised and dizzy, as though she’s underwater, as Nadine pulls control away from her. 

“You said yourself - sentiment in the job we do can get you killed.”

Chloe glares at her and tries, fails, to hate her for using her own words against her. 

“I saved you because I care about you!”

“Which is exactly my point - you could have died.”

“So could you! Nadine I couldn’t just do nothing-”

“I know.” Nadine holds up a hand like a long-suffering parent and it makes Chloe scowl. “I know you’ve gone from being a - a selfish dickhead to having a sense of duty. But it’s- this is an extra risk, and what we do is risky enough already. I can’t do it, Chloe.”

“I nearly fell off that cliff hours ago-” Chloe tries to lift her hand to gesture, but the pain in her side stops her, “whatever risk this may be is nothing compared to occupational hazards.”

Where Chloe’s growing more emotional, Nadine’s calm and collected, barely meeting Chloe’s eyes. “You threw yourself into danger. For me. I won’t have you hurt or worse because of it.”

 _It’s you!_ Chloe wants to scream, _it’s you that makes me a better person. It doesn’t matter if we do this or not because my feelings are the same, and I won’t let anything hurt you. All you’re doing is stopping the best thing that could happen to me._

Except, of course, Chloe can’t say any of that. 

There’s a long, painful silence, punctuated only by the rush of the river, and calls from birds from deep in the forest.

“What are we going to do then?” she eventually asks.

“You’re going to rest and recover,” Nadine says, “and then see how you feel. I’m not suggesting we stop being partners - unless that’s what you wanted.”

“No,” Chloe says immediately. 

Nadine sighs deeply, and Chloe hates how tired she looks, knows it’s her fault. “Take it easy for now. Sleep and you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“ _You_ need sleep.”

“Someone needs to keep watch,” she says with finality. “Get some rest, Frazer.”

* * *

They make it back to the inn in one piece. Nadine sources antibiotics - Chloe doesn’t ask where from, or about their legality - and drops off the package to their buyer the next day. Though she’s on strict orders to sleep and rest, Chloe can’t sit still until Nadine’s safe return.

“You said you’d be an hour,” Chloe says, trying not to breathe a too obvious sigh of relief when Nadine finally comes through the door.

She’s not sure how to navigate things with Nadine. Flirtatious banter used to be best-received - not to mention the most fun - but now she doesn’t know where they stand. She wants to shout at Nadine for taking too long, for making her go out of her mind with worry as she lay injured and helpless, but she suspects that probably won’t go over too well either. 

“I thought you were a professional.” she says.

“Needed to make sure I wasn’t followed,” Nadine says, leaning against the doorframe rather than come and sit on the bed next to Chloe, which is definitely what she would have done before. Chloe tries not to look too hurt about it. “Last thing we need is mercenaries showing up here.”

“You could take ‘em.”

“I’m trying to keep you out of trouble for one day, Frazer.”

Chloe frowns, irrationally irritated at Nadine’s thoughtfulness, and Nadine mistakes her expression for pain, finally coming over to the bed to check Chloe’s wound. 

“No bleeding?”

“Nope,” Chloe says, as though pulling up her shirt so Nadine, leaning over her and a perfectly-kissable distance away, can inspect her stomach, isn’t actual torture.

* * *

Chloe’s a woman of many talents. Climbing, creative problem solving, driving, shooting (no matter what Nadine says), research, Hindu history and mythology. She’s never put together a resume, but if she did it would look pretty impressive. 

Sitting around bedridden is not one of Chloe’s skills. 

Her injury - gunshot wound sounds too dramatic, graze not serious enough - is healing nicely, though she expected nothing less under Nadine’s meticulous care. Nadine changes her dressing twice daily, and the thrill of Nadine’s confident fingers trailing over her bare skin is yet to even slightly diminish. It’s the highlight of her day now, but considering the competition is mostly daytime Japanese gameshows, that’s not saying much.

Chloe booked the inn for its privacy and anonymity, but she lost any appreciation for the rustic sliding doors and soft tatami floors about three days ago. She misses her yoga. Even the lightest stretching would undo all the healing, so she’s confined their room’s futon, a mix of cabin fever and frustration at her partner slowly driving her crazy.

To her credit, Nadine’s been staying with her too, and Chloe knows she hates being stuck inside as much as she does. Nadine was excited to see Japan, and, other than the mountain they nearly died on, all she’s getting to see of it is the inside of a one-bedroom apartment. The only time she leaves at all is to get supplies.

“I’m going to get dinner,” Nadine says, standing up and stretching. Today’s been duller than usual, and the sudden mix of jealousy at Nadine’s ability to stretch and arousal at the muscles on display leaves Chloe dizzy. “What do you want?”

“You choose,”

“I chose lunch. And dinner yesterday.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“You shouldn’t take antibiotics on an empty stomach. You need to eat properly.” Nadine says. Since Chloe’s accident, she’s been attentive to every one of Chloe’s medical needs, but more emotionally closed-off than when they first met. The casual touches and banter are gone, replaced by stony professionalism. After days of pushing, the only way Chloe’s found of breaking Nadine’s stoicism is by acting like a petulant child, but that’s not a dynamic she wants or enjoys either.

“For god’s sake, you’re not my mother,” Chloe snaps, before she can help herself. “Fine. What about that place we went to the first day here? The noodle bar?”

“All right.”

“Wait, no, that’s ages away-”

“It’s fine,” Nadine says, making what Chloe is pretty sure is the first proper eye contact in days, “we could probably use some time apart.”

As Nadine heads out the door Chloe wants to kick herself, or at the very least seethe and stomp around the room, but getting even more injured isn’t her way back into Nadine’s good books. 

She lets out a long breath, blowing strands of hair from her eyes. It's not in either of their interests to let their emotions boil over in the pot their apartment has become. Chloe waits, and after enough time has passed that Nadine unlikely to suddenly return, having forgotten something, she slides a hand under her waistband. Nadine's out clearing her head, after all - Chloe can use her time alone to alleviate some of her frustrations, sexual and otherwise. But as her fingers trail across her skin, she winces as the pressure that the movement and angle has on her injury is too painful.

“Goddammit!” she shouts at the empty apartment. More irritated than ever, she closes her eyes and practices her breathing exercises.

She’s nearly dozing off when Nadine returns nearly an hour later, laden with take-out boxes. Chloe’s heart jumps in a way that has nothing to do with the promise of delicious food, and everything to do with Nadine’s soft, slightly apologetic smile.

“I got a bit of everything so you could try it all. I know it’s hard to be cooped up in here all day.”

The smell of ginger and miso fills the room and Chloe's stomach rumbles. She carefully slides from her prone position on the futon to kneel by the kotatsu in the middle of the room onto which Nadine is unpacking tubs of food.

“Thanks,” she says, warmed by Nadine’s thoughtfulness. Chloe slurps on her noodles and thinks about their argument in India; their little upset earlier had nothing on the violence of their fight, and offerings of Japanese cuisine don’t really compare to saving an elephant together. Still, there’s a peace to their meal that reminds Chloe of sitting on top of the amazing animal, quietly reconnecting with the woman who, even then, had started turning her life upside-down.

They make their way through the mountain of ramen and soba and there’s no banter about chopsticks - Nadine’s technique is still sloppy, but Chloe says nothing - but the air between them is a little clearer.

* * *

Nadine hasn’t said anything about ending their partnership, but Chloe’s terrified that the events on the mountain might have shaken her enough to consider it. She puts feelers out for a new job, any job, that will help Nadine understand that they work so well together it would be beyond foolish to leave.

She looks for anything that might count as treasure in Iceland, and gets as far as looking up flights into Reykjavik before she stops and thinks about what she’s doing. Chloe wants to go and see the northern lights, wants to go with Nadine, but not while their relationship is fractious. She wants to go when it will be something truly special.

She taps idly on the keyboard, thinking about what to do.

“You’re being too quiet over there,” Nadine says. She’s nestled down by the kotatsu, while Chloe’s lying on her usual spot on the futon. In another world - one free from cabin fever, where Chloe's stomach isn't tying itself in knots over the weird status of their relationship - it's a perfect afternoon. “What are you up to?”

“Not much,” Chloe deflects, “what are you reading?”

“They’ve got a bookswap-library-thing at the inn’s reception. Found an old book on local wildlife.”

“In Japanese?”

“Ja, but I’m figuring it out,” Nadine holds up her tablet, onto which she’s downloaded hiragana and katakana charts, “and the illustrations themselves are beautiful. Nineteenth-century woodblock.”

Chloe wants to say sorry that she’s not outside looking at the wildlife for real but, as usual, the apology sticks in her throat. She turns it into a cough, which sends a dart of pain up her side she probably deserves. 

She closes the IcelandAir tab and deletes the searches from her web history.

* * *

Days pass. They develop a new routine, spending days idly passing the time as Chloe's condition improves, and at night Nadine unfolds the room's futon - a sofa by day that Chloe lounges around on; she's mildly disgusted that it's starting to smell like her - into a two-person bed. The first few nights after Chloe's accident, Nadine insisted on sleeping on the floor, out of what Chloe assumed to be a combination of worry that she might inadvertently hurt Chloe in sleep, and awkwardness after their kiss.

The first few nights after the accident were rough; it turns out that, no matter how much yoga you've done, there's no comfortable position in which to lie down after being shot, and Chloe was glad she wasn't keeping Nadine awake all night with her fitful tossing and turning. Once the worst of the pain had passed and the wound had started to properly heal, however, even though Nadine slept off the bed - on the spongy tatami flooring, under a spare blanket - Chloe slept restlessly without her.

The thing about futon beds is they lie very close to the ground. And the thing about Nadine is she won't sleep more than a few feet away from Chloe in case she's needed in the night. And so their night routine becomes Chloe shuffling over to the side of the bed, as near to Nadine as she can get, and usually by morning - Nadine's been moving in her sleep, too - they're as close together as if they'd shared the actual bed. Chloe privately counts this as a victory.

After two weeks, Nadine declares Chloe recovered enough to travel by plane, by which time she's decided that England’s as good a place as any for their next job. She and Nadine have both visited before, there’s no language barrier, and Nadine has a healthy dislike of the English so Chloe figures she can take out her frustrations on the locals. She floats her idea to Nadine over breakfast.

“Devon?” Nadine asks, sipping the last of her green tea.

“Ironically - and please don’t read anything into this, it couldn’t have less to do with Nathan and Sam - the birthplace of Francis Drake himself.”

Nadine sets down her tea cup with a scowl. “Slave trader.”

Chloe nods. “They’ve got a statue of the bloke in Plymouth, apparently. We can swing by and spit on it if you like.”

“Why else are we going there?”

“We’re hunting for some good old neolithic treasure.”

“Do we have a buyer?”

“Sweetie,” Chloe says, handing her a faded, hand-drawn map scattered with dots, “we are the buyer.”

“This is what you ordered?” Nadine moves aside their breakfast things, takes the map and inspects it closely. “I’m not even going to ask how much this cost. What even is it?”

“I’m glad you asked. All the way from the 1700’s, we have: the legendary Parson’s Map.”

“Am I meant to know what that is?”

“The Parson is a figure from Dartmoor folklore, who researched riches hidden in kistvaens - neolithic burial tombs - on the moor. He made a map with the locations of all the ones he could find, but they were sealed with granite slabs, so he had to enlist the help of the few local people willing to break into graves. They robbed them all and grew unimaginably wealthy, but he was obsessed, dedicating all his time to counting his money and trying to find more treasure.”

“Reminds me of someone else who didn’t know when to quit.” Nadine says, raising an eyebrow.

“Then, says the legend-” Chloe grows more animated, her hand gestures getting wilder, “-on a dark and stormy night, the mightiest thunderstorm anybody had ever seen ravaged the moors. It raged all night, but next morning the only stricken house was the Parson’s - which had been reduced to a pile of rubble, the Parson buried underneath. They said the smell of brimstone hung around the ruins of the house, and it was decided that it must have been the angered spirits of the disturbed ancients.”

Chloe finishes her dramatic retelling and looks at Nadine for feedback. She genuinely wants to go, but has fully prepared for Nadine to pull a previously-discussed veto. It's fanciful, it's amateurish, it's a very poor choice of job for someone like her partner.

Nadine's all about efficiency; it's one of the many, many useful qualities she brings to their partnership. Her military background makes her unerringly locate the most direct line between two points, and Chloe's glad that they never met as rivals because Nadine would have taken the treasure and left while Chloe stopped to investigate something shiny by the side of the road. It's not that Nadine's better than her - Chloe would die before ceding that - and experience has shown that the shiny objects are sometimes worth, literally and emotionally, more than the (forged/disappointing/already stolen) treasure they're actually after.

"Come on Sam," Chloe had said as they drove into Bangalore, tusk in hand, for their appointment with the Karnataka Minister for Culture. She caught his eye in the rear-view mirror and winked, “the real treasure was the friends we made along the way.”

Sam had huffed, unconvinced by their altruism. Chloe looked over to the passenger seat, expecting a quip from Nadine about no journey being long enough to make her friends with a Drake, and getting a good-natured eye roll. Chloe smiled at the gesture, enjoying their inside jokes at Sam's expense, and proceeded to nearly drive their 4x4 into a motorcyclist with shock at the realisation that her joke - treasure and friendship and all of it - was absolutely true.

What Chloe knows - and she thinks Nadine knows this too, but it's not something to be talked about - is that they complement each other. Nadine plans, Chloe improvises. Nadine’s direct, Chloe’s thorough. Chloe takes risks, but Nadine calculates them.

Balance. Things are a little off-kilter now, but Chloe thinks the Hindu gods - or her dad, at least - would be proud of her. 

Nadine considers Chloe’s dramatic explanation, to Chloe's surprise, with a barely-concealed smile. “This sounds absolutely absurd, Frazer.”

“Do you know how many years I’ve been in this treasure-hunting business? And yet I’ve never chased a legend with a dark and stormy night.”

“How do we know the map is legit?”

“Technically… we don’t. It was thought to have been destroyed along with the house, but the descendant of one of the Parson’s fellow grave-robbers found it while moving house. It fits the description though; it’s the right age, right materials.”

Nadine takes the map and turns it over in her hands. “You’re saying we should go all the way to England for this?”

“Hear me out - part of the legend says that there was one kistvaen he never cracked, belonging to the Neolithic version of a prince. The fellow grave-robbers were getting paranoid about the immorality of stealing from the dead, and he couldn’t do it on his own. Some say his right-hand man stole the map to stop him from trying. And then he was struck down before he ever had the chance.”

“This is ridiculous, you know that right?”

“I do," says Chloe, "but I think you love this just as much as I do.”

* * *

Chloe’s enough of a control freak to insist that she plan every part of their trip back to Europe, although Nadine makes sure each step of the way will be comfortable for her. 

Chloe flatters herself that she’s not very used to rejection, especially in the style of the decisive shut-down that Nadine pulled on the mountain. But as Nadine insists on a layover time of at least three hours so Chloe won’t have to rush, and frets about deep-vein thrombosis risks in conjunction with Chloe’s antibiotics, it doesn’t _feel_ much like rejection.

They arrive at Narita airport with a ridiculous amount of time to spare. They don’t have much luggage between them, but Nadine’s insisted on carrying most of it, and at the sight of Nadine’s arms effortlessly holding nearly everything they own, Chloe can’t think of a reason to protest.

Chloe has a wander around the airport, nominally to stretch her legs, and, as so often happens when she’s left unsupervised, ends up at a tourist stand.

By the time she returns, Nadine is nose-deep in another book, this time something in English from one of the international bookshops dotted around the concourse. She spots Chloe and looks up.

“Frazer. Was about to send out a search party for you.”

Chloe tosses her an item in a small bag that she catches easily. “Got something for you. Thought I’d use up the last of our yen.”

Nadine takes out the gift, a keyring with an animal charm, and examines it closely. “Is this a macaque?”

“Yeah,” Chloe says, “but cartoon-ified.”

Nadine narrows her eyes. “You haven’t found a new adorable 10-year-old who talks you into buying things, have you?”

“No, I meant I got it for you because we barely got to see any of Japan and you would have been all over these guys. And it’s a dumb thank you for taking such good care of me this week." Chloe shrugs. "Even if I didn’t deserve it.”

It’s been a weird trip, the weirdest in a while, including the bit in India where they nearly rode a train full-speed off a bridge.

“Thanks, Chloe.” Nadine smiles, and under the harsh lights of departure lounge 3, things feel a little more like they should.


	4. Chapter 4

The drive from Heathrow down to Devon is uneventful. Chloe had worried the long journey in the rental car - more intimate than the train or plane they took from Kyoto - might be awkward, but she keeps a running commentary as she drives down the motorway, and Nadine responds as if things were still normal between them.

“Think we’ve got half an hour for a detour?” Chloe asks as they edge into yet another county of rolling hills and patchwork fields.

Even though England in May is colder than Japan, Nadine’s got the passenger window down, her hand casually on the roof, enjoying the wind blowing through her loose hair. The sight of her gives Chloe goosebumps that she can’t quite blame on the chill. “What did you have in mind?”

“Ever seen stonehenge?”

“I haven’t.”

Chloe points at a roadsign claiming it’s 15 miles away. “Fancy it?” 

Nadine considers for a few moments, then nods. “Sure.”

* * *

It’s no Halebidu. Chunks of rock stacked in a circle doesn’t hold a candle to the intricate Hindu stonework, and where the silence and privacy of rediscovering the ancient sites added to their majesty, being a pair among hundreds of noisy tourists substantially detracts.

Still, Nadine doesn’t complain that it’s a waste of time, and joins Chloe in edging to the front of the crowd. 

The pair of them standing before ancient ruins, despite the awkwardness between them and rabble of other tourists, reminds Chloe of their time in the Western Ghats. The rare moments of peace between running, climbing and getting shot at, when they could stand back and enjoy the centuries-old history together.

“My dad brought me here.” Chloe says.

Nadine turns to look at her. “When?”

“I was a kid. We came to England on a family trip to London, but spent half a day coming here and back just to see some old rocks. My mum didn’t want to come, had some important meetings or something, so it was just the two of us.”

Though their partnership was forged in the fire of the legacies left to them by their fathers, family has remained quite a closed-off topic. In the last few months Chloe’s learned that Nadine’s mother is alive, still living in Port Elizabeth, and she has two siblings. Chloe had laughed upon discovering that Nadine was a middle child. 

“Something funny?” Nadine had demanded. 

“No, it’s just - explains a lot. Always got something to prove.”

“What about you? Wait, why am I asking? There’s no way you’re anything other than an only child.”

“Ouch, china,” Chloe had said, “don’t hold back or anything.”

On their drive down, and in the hotel before, Chloe had talked to fill the quiet. Back in India, when they barely knew each other, Nadine had joked about Chloe and Nathan talking endlessly over each other, a remark that had made Chloe cackle with its accuracy. Whoever she’s with - or even alone - Chloe’s happy to chatter away to fill the silence. 

After the sudden move to Australia, and especially after the news about the bandit raid, there had been a lot of silence in the Frazer household. Chloe couldn’t stand it.

Still, while she’s happy to chat about nothing with anyone, there’s far fewer people with whom Chloe will talk about things of actual importance. Very few. Pretty much one, actually, and she’s currently ignoring the background noise and activity, looking at Chloe with soft understanding. 

“Must have been nice.”

“I hung on his every word. He was never happier than when he was telling me about archaeology. Hindu history was obviously his favourite, but,” Chloe gestures at the henge in front of them, “any old rocks with some stories would do.”

Nadine looks like she wants to say something, but after a few moments gives up. 

After a few long seconds of silence, Chloe says “I meant what I said before, though. How you and my dad would have gotten along. I wish you could have met him.”

She half-expects a rebuke for that; it’s too much, too personal, too outside the boundaries that they’ve unspokenly agreed post-kiss, but Nadine just nods.

“I’d liked to have met him.”

Nadine’s small declaration makes something catch in Chloe’s throat. She’s not as unsentimental as she lets the world believe - obviously - and the thought of two of the most important people in her life, the one who introduced her to adventure, and the one she now shares it with, makes her more emotional than she’d admit.

“‘Scuse me?” interrupts a twentysomething wearing a backpack the same size as herself. The intrusion isn’t wholly unwelcome, and gives Chloe a chance to collect herself. She feels for Ganesh in her pocket and tries to refocus.

“Would you mind taking a picture of us?”

“Sure,” Chloe manages. She takes the offered camera and the girl throws an arm around her companion, another girl with an equally huge camping bag. They both grin widely as Chloe snaps their picture against the ancient backdrop.

Like Nadine and herself, the girls look too different to be sisters. Chloe wonders if they’re best friends on a gap year, or girlfriends on vacation. Or travelling partners with a sexual tension they’re not allowed to act on. 

“Cheers,” the girl says as Chloe returns the camera, “want me to take one of you both?”

Chloe looks to Nadine, who doesn’t refuse.

“Go on then,” she says, handing over her phone.

She doesn’t hug Nadine for the photograph, keeping a tortuous appropriate distance between them. But when she looks at the picture later - after the girls have said goodbye, and Nadine has gone to buy a drink from a tourist stand - she zooms in on their faces to see that, while she’s smiling carelessly ahead, Nadine’s looking softly across at her.

* * *

It’s night by the time they arrive. Their bed and breakfast is in a small, pretty village with some tourist shops, a fish and chip restaurant, and an imposing structure that’s one of the bleakest buildings Chloe’s ever seen. 

“Dartmoor prison, eh,” says the B&B owner, a robust-looking man in his fifties with an incredibly thick accent, “you’ve no worries there. Time was, only the most bloody murderers would be sent there, but these days it’s just category C folk.”

Chloe nods, paying no attention. Nadine has booked them separate rooms. She doesn’t say anything, but it stings.

“Right,” says Chloe, taking her room key, “best get an early night.”

* * *

Lonely and frustrated, Chloe thinks about taking the car and heading to civilisation to pick up a stranger. The idea of bringing someone back for the express purpose of making Nadine jealous crosses her mind, but while Nadine’s rules are utterly infuriating and Chloe is a self-professed selfish dickhead, she’s never been cruel, and the thought of deliberately hurting her partner makes Chloe feel nauseous.

Still, Chloe has needs, which are obstinately not currently being taken care of. She settles down into her single bed and takes a few calming breaths to relax before reaching a hand down under her pyjama pants. Her injury, though sill tender, has healed enough that she can touch herself with no pain. Just like treasure hunting; while she prefers a partner, she’s more than capable of getting the job done on her own.

She doesn’t see the point in letting her thoughts drift further than the next room, where she knows Nadine is lying on a twin bed identical to her own. Chloe’s bed is against the wall, and she thinks about Nadine on the other side, less than a meter away. Chloe knows, sure as she knows her own name, that Nadine wants her. She hopes that, even though Nadine can deny herself with Chloe, she can indulge herself in the darkened privacy of her own room. 

She doesn’t attempt to muffle the noise she makes when she comes. She lies in bed after, heart and breathing rate gradually slowing to normal, wickedly hoping that Nadine heard her.

* * *

The next day dawns gloomy and damp. Chloe wakes early from a combination of jetlag and cold. She’s confused about the chill for a few seconds before realising that, first, the B&B is so old that the window doesn’t sit right in its slightly crooked frame, letting in a draft, and second, that the warm body she’s used to sharing with isn’t there.

She tosses and turns for a while, trying to sink back into sleep, but shivers under the quilt. While she generally likes more temperate climes- a preference, along with skill at puzzles based around Hindu mythology, that she likes to attribute to her Indian genetics despite obviously being a quirk of personality - she’s suffered much colder nights than this, with fewer ill-effects. 

She finally gives up on the idea of more sleep. She draws herself a hot bath to bring her body temperature back up, then dresses and eases into her yoga. As she’s completing her routine, the long, easy stretches failing to clear her mind of the resentment that she’s doing them alone, Nadine knocks at the door to ask if she’s ready for breakfast.

The invitation is an olive branch, but Chloe’s still childishly bitter about sleeping alone, so she holds her chakrasana backbend for a full ten seconds before returning to a normal stand, opening the door and acknowledging Nadine. “Sure.”

Breakfast is a little awkward. The presence of the other patrons mean they can’t talk about details of the job, and the other patrons and Nadine’s rules mean she can’t mention her lukewarm orgasm the previous night, and invite Nadine back upstairs to show her how it’s meant to be done.

Mostly, they sit in silence. 

Finally Nadine finishes her coffee and they leave the B&B. There’s not a lot to do, especially on a dreary day, but the empty streets, uneven cobbles shiny with damp, mean they can talk more freely. “No word on the drop?”

“Nope. It should have arrived today. I know we’re beyond the black stump here, but this is ridiculous.” Chloe sighs. “Guess it doesn’t make much difference. The treasure’s been there for over 6,000 years, one more day won’t change anything.”

They make their way along the main street, down towards the imposing edifice of the prison. “How do we know if it’s even still there?” Nadine asks, “I mean, why did this descendant sell the map if she thinks it’ll lead to lost treasure?”

“I’m guessing because the last person who went kistvaen-cracking got hit by a sky full of thunderbolts. People round here are still pretty superstitious.”

“I’ve read The Hound of the Baskervilles,” Nadine says, “the Sherlock Holmes one set around here where they’re all scared of the dog.”

“Exactly,” says Chloe, “local beliefs haven’t changed that much in the last century or two. Still, we want to be in and out as quickly as we can, and it’s definitely best if nobody knows what we’re up to.”

“We’re just vacationing.” The cover for nearly all their post-India work has been holidaying, in large part because, while Chloe wants worthwhile jobs with decent payouts, the idea of going to fun, interesting places with Nadine has been too good to resist.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees, and then, because she absolutely cannot keep her mouth shut, “I mean, we _could_ be the hottest honeymooning couple this town’s ever seen, but I guess tiny, uncomfortable single beds are fine, too.”

“Frazer.” Nadine says. Her accompanying glare is both annoyed and disappointed, and Chloe runs through a mental list of artifacts she’s stolen recently that could conceivably be cursed, because it seems like the best explanation for why she’s being subjected to this special kind of torture.

She takes a deep breath and touches Ganesh for support because she needs help saying the word without choking. 

“Sorry.”

Nadine acknowledges her apology, but doesn’t reply.

* * *

Upon their return to the B&B, Nadine heads back to her room, and Chloe to hers. Chloe is, once again, furious at herself for ruining the atmosphere. Her relationship with Nadine recently has been so one-step-forward-two-steps-back she’s returned to worrying about when Nadine will decide she’s not worth the aggravation and simply head back to South Africa. 

The solution - to this in addition to nearly every problem she’s run into during her entire adult life - is keeping her mouth shut, but it’s so much easier not-said than done when Nadine seems to have absolutely no idea of her effect on Chloe, and how beautiful, brave, and all-round amazing she is.

She slouches on the bed. It’s been her longest dry spell since - well, since probably ever. Including months spent in countries where the sort of sex she’d like to have with Nadine is punishable by imprisonment and/or death. It’s not just about sex though, and that’s the most confusing thing of all - despite all her comments and urges, she’d stay with Nadine forever with no prospect of her returning romantic or sexual feelings.

A more sensible person would perhaps come up with a plan for dealing with her emotions, or navigating their relationship, but, Chloe decides, winging it has kept her alive this far.

* * *

The next morning, as Chloe’s mid-stretch, there’s a ping on her phone. She swipes away weather warnings to see a secure message from an unknown number with a simple string of GPS coordinates.

Afterwards, they follow the message’s coordinates to a cache on the moors, less than a mile from the village. The day’s brighter, as is Chloe’s mood after a good night’s sleep and a job to distract her.

“Couldn’t you get it delivered to the hotel again?” Nadine asks, following on Chloe’s heels as they stride across the moorland.

“I could, but contrary to popular belief I’m not totally irresponsible. We’ve got guns again - surprisingly easy to source around here - and a small but powerful amount of C4.”

Nadine stops dead. “You’re serious.”

“We’ve got to crack that grave open somehow, and take it from me, proper archaeology is a pain in the ass. I thought you’d approve of a direct approach like this.”

“You’re infuriating.”

Chloe shrugs. “That makes two of us.”

* * *

Explosives safely stowed, Chloe navigates their way over the moorland, crosschecking her ordnance survey map against the Parson’s. There are hills with towering granite outcrops, but the land itself is barren, especially compared to the lush mountains of Kyoto.

“Feel kind of exposed out here,” Chloe says, just to break the silence. 

“Ja.” 

“Got any fun facts about-” Chloe looks around, but the remote landscape is nearly totally devoid of life, save for themselves, grassy heather, and some freely-roaming farm animals, “-horses?”

Nadine looks over at the animals picking at the hedgerows. “Those are ponies, not horses.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Size. Equines over 14 hands are horses, and anything fully-grown under that is a pony.”

Chloe successfully fights the urge to tell her how adorable she is, a smart move given how much she pushed her luck yesterday. Still, she’s unable to let Nadine’s endearing nerdiness pass without comment, and says with total honesty, “I love being back in nature with you.”

“It’s nature, but it’s not natural,” Nadine says, expertly avoiding the emotion in Chloe’s confession, “the land here is meant to be forest, but livestock eat all the new shoots, preventing regrowth. This landscape’s completely man-made.”

“Huh,” says Chloe thoughtfully, “weird to think about. Feels like it should have looked like this when our neolithic friends were roaming about.”

“Things change. Humans are naturally selfish.”

Chloe doesn’t have anything to say to that, and returns to navigating.

* * *

“We should be getting nearer,” Chloe says, checking around with her binoculars that they’re the only people in the area. The wound from Japan has healed to an itchy scab - Chloe secretly hopes the scar will be impressive - and it’s a reminder to be careful. 

She looks over at Nadine, who’s peering straight ahead with her own binoculars, and considers the long scar across her neck. She’s never asked about it, and Nadine’s never volunteered. Chloe’s imagined hearing the story in bed, kissing along the ridged skin and hearing about Nadine breaking every bone in the body of the man who did it. Nadine catches her staring, so Chloe points towards their destination.

Thick, spiny gorse bush, nearly as tall as Nadine, covers the entirety of the site marked on the map. Chloe’s brought a machete, but it still takes an hour to find the massive granite slab that marks the entrance to the tomb. They split the work, but it’s another half-hour before they clear it, and Chloe’s sweaty and scratched all over.

“Didn’t like this shirt anyway.” she says, looking down. She’s back in her trademark red, but now picked through with holes, it’s a write-off. “How’re you doing, love?”

“Fine,” says Nadine, cutting back the last few stubborn branches. When she turns around, Chloe can see a trickle of blood from a cut on her cheek. 

“Come here, you.”

Nadine wipes sweat from her face, inadvertently smearing blood across her cheek. Chloe retrieves an antiseptic wipe, steps forward, and gently cups Nadine’s face in her hands. 

Chloe bites her lip in concentration as she carefully wipes the blood away. She’s surprised by Nadine’s intake of breath when she touches the cut, and their gazes immediately lock. Chloe had noticed how they’d been avoiding eye contact, certainly the kind she used to enjoy during their thinly-veiled flirting, but hadn’t realised just how much she misses it until she’s staring into deep browns inches away. 

Chloe gently drags the swab across the length of the cut, and Nadine makes a noise that, from anyone else, would be a whine.

Nadine’s eyes flutter closed, and Chloe begins to close the distance between them, but suddenly Nadine’s hands are heavily on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length. 

“What are you-”

“Thanks, Frazer,” Nadine says, businesslike. The use of her last name hits Chloe like a bucket of cold water, “for the medical attention.”

Chloe sighs. “Anytime, love.”

The endearment, casually thrown, makes Nadine’s shoulders stiffen. "Maybe it would be best if you laid off the nicknames for a while."

"Oh, come on!” Chloe protests, “You can't - I use nicknames for _everybody_. It's part of my charm."

"You don't call anyone else love. Not the way you call me. Love."

It’s true. She throws around endearments like candy - she called the owner of the B&B honey earlier, only partly to get a rise out of Nadine - and while she’ll use the l word on anybody she wants something from, there’s no denying there’s something different about the way she says it to her partner. She frowns, hating that her sneaky getaround for showing affection is being shut down. 

"C'mon Nadine..." 

"Nobody has called me those kinds of names before. It's not something partners do."

There's something paradoxical about Nadine criticising Chloe's endearments for being too intimate while making emotionally vulnerable statements that make Chloe want nothing more than to take her in her arms. 

Chloe bites her tongue. Then throws her hands up exaggeratedly.

"Fine. Can I at least still call you china?"

Nadine considers for a moment. "Ja. You can still call me china."


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

Chloe sets the C4 and retreats to a safe distance with Nadine. There’s no real cover, so they just stand well back, past the pile of hacked-up gorse.

“Ready?”

Nadine nods.

The moment the explosion goes off, Chloe knows something is wrong. The detonation is far too big, and rather than just cracking the tomb door open, chunks of solid granite shoot up into the air. Chloe doesn’t have time to move before a weight falls on top of her, and she screws shut her eyes in anticipation of pain. A small part of her brain registers annoyance that, if she’s going to be crushed by rubble, how cosmically unfair it is that her untimely death - maybe not that untimely, given the situations she keeps putting herself in - should happen while Nadine’s still mad at her.

Seconds pass, and Chloe’s reasonably sure she’s still alive. All she can hear is ringing in her ears, and the weight’s still on her. Whatever it is has her pinned face-down, but as panic lessens and she takes in her surroundings, she’s fairly certian she’s not crushed under bits of rock.

For one thing, whatever is on top of her is warm and moving. The dust and rubble makes her cough, and when she opens her eyes, blinking away dust, she sees that it’s Nadine who’s rolled off her. They both shakily get to their feet.

Nadine’s hands are moving erratically, like she wants to reach out and touch Chloe but can’t. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Chloe manages, throat dry, “what about you?”

Nadine gestures to Chloe’s stomach, “How’s your-”

Knowing she won’t get an answer until Nadine’s satisfied she’s all right, Chloe pulls her shirt high enough to show there’s no damage or bleeding. There’s some pain, but it’s not worth mentioning, especially given how drowned out by other sensations it is right now. “How about you?”

Nadine shakes her head, which jostles some of the rubble from her hair. “Fine - my backpack took most of it. Nothing’s broken.”

Nadine’s never been anything but honest with her, but Chloe wants to demand similar physical evidence that she hasn’t been injured. Or at least reach upwards and pick out the shards of rock and debris that cover her shoulders and hair. Or to just touch her; after a near-death experience, Chloe thinks they could both use some reassurance. But before she can do or ask anything, Nadine’s striding over to the explosion site.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

Chloe follows her over, legs still a little unsteady. “I don’t know.”

They kneel to examine the remains of the kistaven entrance, where a cloud of dust is slowly disintegrating in the breeze. “Are you sure that was C4?”

“Yes. Five pounds. I’m certain.”

“And your contact?”

Nadine’s direct, urgent questions cut through the confusion in Chloe’s mind. “Someone I know through Nathan. Reliable guy, he’d have no reason to send me dodgy explosives.”

Nadine nods. Chloe feels a chord of happiness at Nadine’s faith in her judgement; despite their ongoing jokes about professionalism, Nadine trusts her assessment, of the explosive and her contact, and pushes no further. 

The familiarity of the shop talk, and Nadine treating her like a professional helps Chloe pull herself together. They are both alive and unharmed, and while Nadine’s keen to move on - Chloe wants to see what they’ve so violently unearthed too - she’s not going to let Nadine’s grand gesture go unacknowledged. 

Before, this kind of incident - nearly lethal, but like cats with multiple lives, somehow always coming out unscathed - would have them collapsing into each other with laughter. Grasping hands, Chloe resting her head on Nadine’s shoulder. Chloe hides her disappointment, fixes her stiff upper lip in place, and investigates the tomb entrance with Nadine.

The entrance is almost entirely demolished, with a blast radius of several feet. Chunks of rock lie around them, and the gorse they haven’t hacked away is blackened and smoking. 

They both peer into the tomb. It’s deep, cut nearly two meters into the earth, and the depth makes the explosion site look even more like a crater. Dust is still clearing across the still, otherwise undisturbed landscape, and a strange, sour smell lends the site an otherworldly dimension. Looking down into the hole, Chloe sees chunks of rubble littering what looks to be the main burial chamber. In the centre lies a long box of granite.

“Is that-?” Nadine says, her voice not much louder than a whisper. 

“The prince’s coffin?” Chloe says, equally reverent, “yeah, I think so.” 

The sight of the tomb in front of them makes the echo of centuries of history send a shiver down Chloe’s spine. The locals’ superstitions suddenly feel a bit more understandable.

She wants to comment on the weight of the moment - they’re the first people for millennia to lay eyes on the scene before them, and Nadine’s silence suggests she’s feeling a little awestruck too. The quiet acknowledgement that they’re both appreciating the moment is broken by Chloe sneezing. 

“What _is_ that smell?” 

Nadine clambers down into the tomb and flicks on her flashlight. Chloe follows, sliding down the steep side of the grave. Rather than rush off to see what treasures might lie deeper underground, she takes time to inspect a dark residue blasted by the explosion into the corners of the hole. Nadine watches as she sniffs the powdery substance and the acrid smell around the site suddenly makes sense. “This is… gunpowder.”

“What’s gunpowder doing here?”

“The parson. Or someone who came along after - they must have been trying to blow the kistaven entrance up. From the inside and out.”

Nadine frowns. “How did they get it inside the tomb though?”

“They probably drilled a hole. We must have missed it when we excavated outside; the entrance was huge, it was easy to miss.” Chloe says, “good news is, nobody’s out to get us. Probably.”

“Hm,” Nadine concedes. Her hand hasn’t strayed far from her pistol holster since the explosion.

“Shall we take a closer look?” Chloe asks, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

“What are you smiling for?”

“It just - looks like a tomb, you know? Imagine a tomb… this is what it looks like.”

A twitch of Nadine’s mouth gives away her amusement at Chloe’s enthusiasm, though her tone remains strictly professional, “where are the goods? Were they buried in there with him?”

“Hm, unlikely,” Chloe says, inspecting the stone coffin - still sealed and undisturbed by the explosion - and then surveying the area with her flashlight, “this is a passage tomb, there should be another chamber - here.”

Nadine adds more light and together they illuminate a small room, even deeper underground and adjacent to the main tomb. They step carefully towards a ring of stone plinths, on which an array of jewelry and tools are displayed.

“God damn,” Nadine says appreciatively. 

“I love your way with words.” 

“Shut up.”

“Hey, I’m serious,” Chloe says, snapping on a pair of work gloves, practically drooling at what they’ve uncovered, “god damn is right - look at all this!”

Nadine adjusts the angle of her flashlight beam so Chloe can inspect the goods. Like a child in a lolly shop, she darts about, unable to decide what to investigate first.

“These beads are actual amber, and this - this is tin, and this is a fully intact ceremonial dagger!”

Nadine finds an empty plinth to serve as a stable surface for the flashlight, then carefully bags up the artifacts as Chloe hands them to her, nodding along to Chloe’s historical explanation of each.

“This would have come from the Baltic rim. Thousands of miles away!”

Even though they’re both wearing gloves, the near-skin contact of Nadine’s hands as Chloe gently passes items across to her feels significant after the incident outside. Chloe tries not to let her mood be dampened by the fact she's making such a significant discovery - the biggest one since the Tusk, for sure - but she'd drop the treasures in a moment for some physical reassurance from Nadine.

Nadine delicately folds protective padding around a well-rusted knife, seals it in a bag, then a box, then stacks it into her backpack. “I’m assuming these are all worth quite a bit.”

Chloe admires the beads in her hands, the string that used to connect them long-rotten. “China, after we sell these babies, our next trip can be literally wherever you’d like.”

The grin falls from her face as she realises her presumption. It’s not enough to retire on, but could definitely allow Nadine to take a break from her brat of a partner, or even seek out alternative employment if she wanted. She turns around to look at Nadine, to justify herself, but Nadine cuts her off. 

“You’d let me pick where we go? Are you sure you didn’t get hit on the head by one of those boulders earlier?”

“Yeah, well,” Chloe says, ducking her head a little, pretending to inspect the amber before passing it to Nadine, hand curling around fingers, “you’ve caught me at a good moment.”

* * *

It takes about an hour of concentrated work to get everything in the small chamber sealed up. They return to the main tomb, empty other than the debris from the explosion and the still-sealed granite coffin.

“What about him?” Nadine asks.

“You decide, partner. Take him or leave him?”

Nadine crosses her arms and eyes the tomb. “What do you think?”

“Honestly? My vote’s no. He’d be valuable, and I’d very much like to see you lift that big old lid, but I don’t love trading in human remains, and there’s no way we’ll get him back in one trip. Or in decent condition.”

“You sure you’re not just superstitious?”

“Well,” concedes Chloe, holding up her thumb and forefinger a tiny distance apart, “I am a little stitious.”

Nadine laughs, “I knew it.”

“Hey, we followed a legend this far. Don’t want to end up like the last guy. Plus, I remember someone recently telling me to know when to quit.”

“Touché. We’ll leave him then.” Nadine looks up at the sky above the grave, and Chloe follows her gaze to see storm clouds gathering across the moor. “Shall we get out of here?”

Chloe nods, and readies her climbing axe to scale the steep edges of the tomb. “We’re better without a third wheel anyway. See ya around, Prince.”

* * *

To be safe, Chloe cancels the rest of their reservation at the B&B and they find another nearby village - still on Dartmoor; it’s late, and they’re too tired to travel much further - where nobody including Chloe’s contact knows where they are. 

The clouds from earlier have darkened, and the expectant crackles of electricity in the air are a good metaphor for the atmosphere in the car. Chloe keeps both hands on the steering wheel as she weaves the car down narrow lanes with high hedgerows. She doesn’t risk sideways glances at Nadine, but the tension between them feels alive even without eye contact. She considers cracking a joke about the legendary storm that buried the parson, but for once she keeps quiet; there's something she needs to talk to Nadine about, and she has patience enough to wait till they're somewhere safe and dry.

Chloe pulls up to the first farmhouse with a Vacancy sign, swinging and creaking in the high winds, and they head inside to make an enquiry. 

“Looks like you got here just in time,” says the owner, “Barry says it’ll storm tonight. I’m afraid there’s only one room left available.”

She laughs. “Of course there is.” She looks to Nadine for permission, and when she nods, Chloe turns back to the proprietor. “We’ll take it.”

* * *

The storm begins to give way in the time it takes them to climb the narrow stairs up to their room; rain hammers against the leaded-glass windows, and the sky outside has turned so dark it looks like night. Chloe locks the door and heads over to the window to draw the curtains, just for something to do, as Nadine sits on the edge of the bed to unlace her boots.

Nadine’s asked her not to push. But Chloe, as usual, hasn’t been totally honest. She takes Ganesh from her pocket, gives him a squeeze, and sets him on the windowsill. _Cards on the table._ If she says her piece and Nadine’s not interested, she’ll deal with it - probably deserves it. But the least Nadine deserves is for Chloe to tell the truth.

“You jumped on top of me when that explosion went off,” Chloe says, turning around to look at Nadine, “without hesitation.”

“Eish,” Nadine grunts, tugging off a boot.

“So, Ross, I’ve got to ask - how’s keeping your sentimentality in check going for you?”

Nadine sets her boots to the side and looks up. Chloe takes several steps closer. “Because I heard... it can get you killed.”

“I wasn't thinking-”

“Neither was I! And yet we’re still throwing ourselves into danger. You more than me this time. Very sexy, by the way, very heroic.”

Nadine tries to scowl, but there’s no anger in it. 

“And I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she says, taking another step so she’s right in front of Nadine, “but we’re both still very much alive.”

Nadine reaches up and touches Chloe’s shirt. “You got hurt.”

“I’m always going to get hurt, it’s part of the job. And I’ve got you to patch me back together - great job on this, you know - and I don’t think I ever properly thanked you.” She pulls her shirt up, exposing her stomach. The bullet wound is nearly fully healed, and Nadine gently puts a hand out to touch it.

Chloe closes her eyes in pleasure as Nadine’s fingers caress her healing injury. “The way I see it, we can do this with or without kissing. And I know which I’d prefer.”

“Chloe-”

“And,” she takes a deep breath, “it’s not just about the kissing. It’s all of it. You’re the best partner I’ve ever had, and I know what we do is dangerous but we keep each other safe. You make me a better treasure hunter and a better person. And I know I’m selfish and reckless and all of it, but I love you. And you deserve to know.”

The thunder crashes outside, and the wind howls so strongly the foundations of the rickety old farmhouse tremble. A few seconds pass, during which Chloe’s heart rate increases dramatically, until Nadine, woman of action, pulls Chloe down by her shirt and into a searing kiss.

It’s less desperate and more heated than their previous kiss; there’s no uncertainty, and no distractions of pain and cold. Their mouths press hungrily together, and every one of Chloe’s senses is filled with Nadine. 

Part of Chloe can’t believe it’s real, but after long moments of searching hands and muffled moans, when they mutually pull apart, Nadine’s looking at her with eyes darker than Chloe’s ever seen.

“Say it again.”

It’s easier this time; it might be the easiest thing she’s ever said. “I love you, Nadine.”

Nadine smiles, a proper smile that crinkles her nose and makes Chloe’s heart skip a beat. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m very prepared to believe that,” Chloe says. She’s not great at people, probably never will be. But she wants to be good at Nadine. “I’m - I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest before. Again.”

Nadine nods, accepting the apology. She meets Chloe’s eyes and takes a moment to find her words; “I wouldn’t risk what we have on an attraction. But - ja, I could risk it on this.”

As they meet in another kiss, Chloe gently pushes Nadine back onto the bed. Nadine’s hands cradle the back of Chloe’s head and, with a dexterity that would make Chloe proud if she wasn’t otherwise occupied, seamlessly pulls Chloe’s hair from its ponytail. Her long hair spills forwards, shrouding them both as they press together, again and again, with urgent kisses.

“I thought about you, you know,” Chloe says, her face so close to Nadine’s that their lips brush as she talks, “when you left me alone at night.”

Nadine colours slightly, and Chloe can’t decide if it’s more adorable or hot; it’s definitely a good mix of both. “Me too.”

Chloe pushes herself forward, kissing Nadine deeply while arching up against a leg pressed between her own. When they finally break apart, Chloe pushes hair out of her face so she can look Nadine straight in the eye. “I knew it.”

She kisses down Nadine’s neck to the jut of her collarbones, and feels the crease of the scar under her lips. She traces the length of the ridge with her tongue and Nadine, while deliciously vocal at Chloe’s attention, doesn’t have any words about the scar’s story. Chloe figures there’s always next time. Or the time after, or after that; Nadine might disagree, but Chloe’s patient when she needs to be. 

As the storm howls and rages outside, and Nadine pushes up against her, breathless in her ear, the time for patience passes.

* * *

Between the two of them, Nadine’s usually the early riser. Chloe’s no slouch - in the treasure hunting business, the early bird/worm metaphor definitely applies - but when they’ve shared a bed before, under far less agreeable circumstances, it’s not uncommon for Nadine to be dressed and halfway through a set of squats by the time Chloe stirs.

This morning, though, Chloe wakes first and spends a deeply enjoyable few minutes watching Nadine in peaceful slumber. She looks younger in sleep, almost vulnerable, her trademark scowl reduced to a pout. 

She pulls herself away from Nadine and out of the bed, over to where Ganesh still stands on the windowsill. The storm’s blown over, and while she doesn’t open the curtains - she’s still naked and doesn’t want to give the farmhouse owner’s husband a heart attack if he’s in the courtyard below - she can feel the beginning of morning sunlight on the other side of the glass. Their entire partnership has been building up to a morning after like this, but she doesn’t feel any different. Serious feelings were discussed last night, will probably be talked about today, but, unusually, the idea doesn’t make her want to turn tail and run. _I’m tired of running away._ She looks over at Nadine in the bed, feels the sun on her skin, and the corner of her mouth quirks up in a smile as she thinks about all the reasons to stay. She’s packing Ganesh away, and double-checking their loot from yesterday, when there’s a stirring of sheets from across the room. 

“For god’s sake, Chloe,” comes Nadine’s voice, croaky with sleep, “come back to bed.”

Even though everything’s changed, nothing’s changed really; economical room sharing, protecting each other in the face of danger - Chloe knows that if she expects Nadine to lay off the teasing just because they’re sleeping together she’s going to be horribly disappointed. 

“Mmm,” Chloe hums, needing no further incentive to leave the bags and snuggle back under the sheets, “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that.”

Nadine shifts in the bed, so she and Chloe are lying face-to-face. “What were you doing?”

“Thinking about removed obstacles. And checking our stuff’s all still there.”

“We’ve been in the room the entire time.”

“So was that von Gunten guy, and we still got the painting from under his nose.”

Nadine chuckles at the memory. “We did. Have you sorted a buyer? For the tomb stuff?”

Chloe nods, trying not to look too pleased with herself, “It’ll have to go through a ton of intermediaries, but ultimately it’ll be paid for by the British Museum. Stealing their history and selling it back to them; what do you think about that?”

“I can show you,” Nadine says, closing the distance between them once more, and easily rolling Chloe onto her back. Between the priceless amber beads and the woman in her bed, Chloe knows which is more valuable.

* * *

The sun’s full in the sky by the time they finish. Chloe is wrapped around Nadine, exactly where she wants to be, and can’t remember ever feeling more secure. There’s no job lined up; the thought would have made her anxious before, but knowing she and Nadine have as much time as they want - to plan their next heist, to navigate the new dimension of their relationship - fills her with peace. 

“Where do we go after this?” 

“The world’s our oyster, love,” Chloe says with a lazy smile, “wait, am I allowed to call you that again now?”

“You may as well,” Nadine says, too cocooned to even pretend to be irritated, “given the kinds of things you were calling me last night. Was that payback for Switzerland?”

“If I recall,” Chloe says, “you gave as good as you got.”

“I did.” In Chloe’s arms she can’t see her face, but Chloe knows exactly the smirk Nadine’s wearing. “Control thing indeed.”

“To answer your question - immediately speaking, I think a shower is in order. Then breakfast.”

“We’re -” Nadine checks her watch, and Chloe loves that she’s still wearing that chunky thing in bed, “- three hours late for breakfast.”

“Brunch?”

“You’re not feeding me fish and chips.”

“We’ll find something. A cafe with internet - put the wheels in motion to get rid of this stuff, and start planning our next job.”

Still wrapped in Chloe's arms, Nadine looks over her shoulder to meet Chloe's eyes. “Any ideas?”

“I’m open to suggestions, but Iceland’s all about vikings, right? I’m sure they’ve got loads of stuff worth collecting,” they’re pressed so tightly against each other that it’s hard to get closer, but Chloe manages it, “I hear it’s a good time of year to see those lights.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading & huge thanks to anyone who's commented/kudos'd, etc :) if you want to hmu on tumblr (pea-green) you totally should!!


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